Opposites and Equals
by Veil Ion
Summary: Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. All Harry ever wanted was a friend. In 1986, his magic took action. AU, OC.


1986

Harry had had an amazing first half of his first year at school, mainly because he hadn't had to spend as much time with Aunt Petunia doing chores, or locked up in his cupboard while she watched those awful soap operas and gossiped with her neighbours or, worse than that, when she decided he should go and 'play' with her darling Dudley. Best of all, despite Dudley's best efforts, Harry had made a few tentative friends within his class, namely Jordan and Alex. For Harry, this was the culmination of all the good karma he should rightly have. Because for Harry, friends meant one thing.

A birthday party.

Though many kids would scoff if Harry confessed his deeply held desire, a birthday party with friends seemed like quite possibly the best thing a young boy could experience. Petunia had told him, when he'd been old enough to ask, that only normal children with friends were allowed birthday parties. And because Harry was a freak with no friends, the Dursley's spent his birthday somewhere nice, like the cinema, while Harry was left in his cupboard where he could do no harm. So yes, Harry was quite happy when he made some friends because in a few months, at the end of the school year, he could invite them all around for cake and ice cream, and he would get presents just like Dudley did. He'd made sure to confirm one day that he _was_ normal by asking Alex if they were friends.

The blonde boy had looked at him oddly, "Of course we're friends Harry, why wouldn't we be?"

And so it was that Harry was walking home one day after school, as he wasn't allowed a ride home like Dudley, in high spirits. As soon as he got inside, he went into the kitchen, where Aunt Petunia was on the phone gossiping about their new neighbour's "absolutely hideous" statue with unrestrained glee. He waited patiently for her to finish up, and gave her a polite smile when she eyed him suspiciously before speaking into the receiver.

"I've got to go now Janice, the boy is acting all funny," Harry could hear the garbled tones of sympathy coming through the receiver before it went dead, and waited as Petunia placed it in the cradle with a click.

"What do you want boy? I was in the middle of something very important just now," she snapped irritably, her joyful temperament thoroughly ruined.

He coughed, suddenly nervous about what he had to say.

"Um, I made a friend in class today Aunt Petunia," he began, carefully watching her expression. "Well really, I've made a few friends, and they weren't really made _today_ , but I confirmed that they were my friends, and that they wanted to be my friends…" He trailed off as soon as he realised he was rambling. Aunt Petunia hated rambling.

"So? Why does that matter to me?"

"Well, it's just that, you told me last year that only normal children who had friends could have birthday parties, and now I've made some friends so I thought-" He was cut off by a sharp laugh from Aunt Petunia.

"And what, you thought that you could have a birthday party? That you _deserve_ a birthday party?" She stopped laughing, suddenly angry.

"You will _never_ be normal, boy. Freaks like you aren't allowed to have friends, because they can never be normal. Tomorrow, you will go to school, and you will tell these little friends of yours that you can't be friends with them, because you are a selfish little boy who doesn't deserve friends. You will do this because if you don't, Dudley will know, and he'll tell me, and then _I_ will know." There was a bit of spittle on her lip now, but she took no notice of it.

"Tonight you will cook dinner, and then you will get yourself two slices of bread and a glass of water. In fact," she paused for a second to think, then continued "In fact you won't go to school tomorrow, you'll stay in your cupboard and you'll have to make that bread last through the day as well. Then, the day after that, you will go and put an end to these foolish friendships." She hadn't really been talking to him, just ranting, but now she looked at him, even angrier than she had been at the start.

"Does that make you sad boy? Because crying will get you nowhere," she spat viciously.

Harry reached a hand up to his face, surprised to feel hot tears that had started streaming down his face.

The next day was pure hell for Harry. He'd gone to sleep last night without eating, knowing he would need the bread to last the day, and upon waking he almost immediately scoffed half of one slice. But the worst came when the temperature in the cupboard started to rise, and he had to force himself to only sip his water. To keep his mind off reality, he imagined his cousin Dudley in his placing, wailing and thrashing, covered in sweat with all his food and water long gone. Somehow he knew that Dudley wouldn't be able to survive as long as him, nor anyone else he could think of.

And survive he did. On the second morning he woke up early and waited for Uncle Vernon to unlock the door. He made sure to finish every last part of his bowl of cornflakes while also not behaving desperately. And then he went back to school, waited until break time to talk with Alex and Jordan.

"I can't be friends with you anymore." It was the first thing he had said to them all day, and he stated it as firmly as he could.

They both looked at him curiously.

"What?"

"I can't be friends with you. I don't need friends, and I don't want friends. I'm not going to play with you anymore." He held back the tears, he'd already cried enough.

Alex couldn't though, as his eyes started to well up. Jordan on the other hand looked angry.

He stepped forward. "You're being mean Harry! You made Alex cry, so we're not going to play with you either." He grabbed Alex and walked away.

As Harry watched them sadly, he noticed Dudley watching, his pig-like eyes glinting with glee. Harry balled up his fists and stalked off in the other direction.

It had taken a while for the two boys to realise they really couldn't play with Harry again, at least until Dudley's gang gave them good reasons. A push off the playground for Jordan, and a few accidental bumps and scrapes for Alex. For the last few weeks of school, Harry was completely isolated. He tried his best to ignore the sad looks Alex gave him in class, the newfound disdain in Jordan's eyes once he'd joined up with Dudley's gang of all the people. Jordan had actually been invited to Dudley's birthday, and it hurt Harry deeply when he caught sight of Jordan's dad pulling up out front of his house in their red car, it hurt badly as he got out and ran inside, while Harry watched from across the road in Mrs Figg's living room.

When Harry's own birthday came around, the Dursleys took Dudley to a football game. Harry was once again locked in his cupboard, left waiting. Every time he thought about his friends, his heart started to hurt, so bad he started to tear up. He wished he could have a friend, just one. He lay there for a long while, imagining having a friend that would never leave, that would help him get one over Dudley and help him. By the time the Dursleys came home, his heart had stopped hurting, and he was fast asleep, incredibly drained despite having done nothing at all.

* * *

1991

The storm raged on into the night, constantly threatening to rip the little shack apart, but never following through with it. Harry was glad for this. If it did pull the roof off, Uncle Vernon would become even madder than he already was, and would probably make them row back to shore, despite the torrential rain and gale force winds. Harry didn't blame him though, because everything else had been pretty mad too.

A few days after a fairly boring trip to the zoo for Dudley's birthday, a letter had arrived for Harry. Before he got a chance to look at it though, Uncle Vernon had read it, gone white, and burnt it in the fireplace. He did the same with the next few letters as Harry wondered how they'd gotten into the bathroom, the breadbin and the roast chicken. It wasn't until a flood of letters had come through every possible entryway in their house that Harry's uncle truly snapped.

He checked the watch strapped around Dudley's pudgy wrist again. 11:55. Five minutes and counting to his birthday. He wondered what he should wish for, thought of all the things he could want right now. To be home in a real bed, to have a nice hot meal sitting in his belly.

Three minutes to go. Maybe he should wish for that letter, just so he could figure out what the fuss was all about. Then they could go home because, well, once he knew what the letter said, Uncle Vernon had no reason to keep them all there anymore.

One minute left. He kept dreaming of all the things he could wish for when his mind wandered to another birthday, the one he didn't usually like to think about. A birthday that didn't happen 5 years ago today. Easily the worst non birthday he'd had.

30 seconds. A friend. He remembered lying for hours in his cupboard, dreaming of having just one friend. That wasn't too selfish was it? One friend?

10 seconds. A fat tear rolled down his cheek. If he had a single friend, he wouldn't need anything else ever again. Right now, he wanted a friend more than anything else in the world. Wanted for one so bad his heart hurt like it was bleeding. As agony ripped through his chest, he squeezed his eyes shut tight, refusing to cry anymore about it.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

" _Make a wish, Harry"_

Harry's eyes snapped open as lightning cracked overhead, the whole room filling with sound and light.

And then everything went black.

* * *

"Harry, wake up." His eyes fluttered.

"Come on, Harry. It's time to get up." Finally, with great effort, he pulled open his eyes. And gaped. There was… someone sitting across from him, dressed in the exact same clothes that Harry wore right now. His hair was white, so much so it almost glowed in the darkness of the shack. It looked as messy and untameable as Harry's own, and it fell across ruby red eyes that glinted with cold humour and a sharpness that made him want to avert his own emerald green ones. It didn't, it seemed, fall across a lightning bolt scar.

The boy, for he was certainly a boy, simply observed Harry. His mouth was stretched into a smirk, as if knowing Harry wanted to shy away, which only made Harry flush scarlet and want to look away even more. Not really knowing what one should do when someone suddenly appears in front of them, he swallowed his fears and made to find his voice.

"Umm… W-who are you?" He flinched instinctively at the little stumble, expecting sharp words from Aunt Petunia over speaking properly, even as she snored quietly in the bedroom across the shack. Nothing came, and he peeked back to see the other boy watching him, a wide grin on his face.

"You know, I'm not entirely sure to be honest." He spoke quietly to not wake anyone, but his voice was strong and confident.

"I think I'm what you asked for, what you've wanted for about five years now." He stretched and kicked his feet out to lay down, somehow making the cold stone floor look comfortable.

What Harry had wanted for five years? He couldn't figure out what that meant, and was about to say so when lightning flashed again and he realised.

A friend, that's what he was saying. He was a friend for Harry, who had just wished with all his heart for this one thing, truthfully something he had been wishing for since he'd been locked in that broom cupboard with only two slices of bread, a glass of water, and the spiders for company. Harry's eyes widened at the idea that somehow, his wish had come true.

"So you're a friend? How? How does that work, how did you get here, how-?" The other boy raised his hand to stop the flood of questions Harry now had. He sat up again, staring at Harry with such an intensity that he couldn't look away.

"Okay, let's start with the simple stuff. First of all, I'm not really sure how this works, all I know is that before today, I didn't completely exist. Something happened, something to do with _you_ , Harry, which made me. I think that five years ago, you wanted a friend so bad that I started to exist. Secondly, yes, I am a friend. I will _alway_ _ **s**_ be there for you Harry, don't forget that." He paused, giving him time to process this.

Harry sighed, "Okay, I'm not sure that all makes sense, especially the bit about this all happening because of me, but for now I guess that will have to do." Normally, Harry would be freaking out about this, but for some reason this person being here made him feel calmer, more grounded. Speaking of which…

"You never answered my question. _Who_ are you? I know you're a friend, but do you have a name?"

The boy smiled. "I'm glad to see you taking this so well. And since you asked, I guess I do have a name now. My name is Nemo." He reached out his hand, which Harry shook.

"Nice to meet you, Nemo."

They talked about everything they could think of. It seemed Nemo knew all about Harry's life, but only after the day he was locked in the boot cupboard. This day seemed to be the start of everything, but why that was, neither of them knew. It was a little scary that someone knew him as well as he knew himself, maybe better, but Harry was glad it was Nemo. He was like Harry in so many ways, but different as well.

Physically, they were almost identical except for hair and eye colour. Maybe Nemo was a little taller as well, but they couldn't really tell sitting down, and they didn't want to make too much noise with Dudley so close, or Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia for that matter. Harry thought Nemo was about as smart as himself, which was a little irritating because _he'd_ had to go to school to be as smart as he was. However, even in the few minutes they'd talked for Harry could tell he'd been correct; Nemo was confident, much more so than him. His words were strong, unbothered by stutters, and he sat tall with his head high. It almost came across as arrogance, but there was something behind it that stopped it short, something that whispered ' _I can back it up_ '. Privately, and perhaps a little bitterly, Harry mused that maybe that confidence came from living in Harry's head and _not_ in the Dursley household. He thought he saw a small, sad smile cross Nemo's face when he thought this, but it was hard to tell in the dark.

Whatever it was, that confidence, along with the shockingly white hair and red eyes, would dissuade any casual acquaintance of feelings of similarity between the two. That, Harry decided, was a good thing. Because despite any envy he may feel towards him, once they were back at Privet Drive and things were back to normal, he doubted very much that he'd be spending his days without Nemo beside him. He was his first truefriend, not counting Jordan and Alex, and he'd be damned if he was going to lose him.

They were talking about writing, (Nemo felt he was likely left handed, another difference) when Nemo froze, his eyes wide.

"Harry," He started, his voice lower than it already had been, "I need you to call me back into your head." He glanced at the door, something close to fear in his eyes.

Harry shook his head in confusion. "Call you back? What do you mean?" He didn't know why Nemo was acting strange, but he was starting to feel worried.

"I need to be back in your head, and not out here. And you need to make it happen, by calling me back." He gestured at Harry's head as he said this, now completely focused on the door.

"I don't understand, Nemo please-"

"Okay," Nemo turned back to Harry, closing his eyes in thought.

"I can be out here, a living, breathing person like you. But, I can also be in here," He reached out, eyes still closed, and tapped lightly at Harry's forehead, "I can be like another person inside your brain. When I'm in there, you can still hear me and talk to me, but only out here can other people see or interact with me. That is why," His eyes snapped open, and he caught Harry's gaze with his own, "that's why I need to go back in, because _someone_ is coming, and they _mustn't_ see me. Do you understand, Harry?" Harry nodded slowly. "Good. Now, to call me back in, you need to say 'Nemo, I recall you'. And when you want to bring me out again, say 'Nemo, I release you'. Got it?" Again Harry nodded. He shuffled back and cleared his throat.

"N-nemo, I recall you." He watched, transfixed, as Nemo slowly dissipated like mist, the particles lazily drifting towards him and before he could react, they collided with his forehead where his scar sat, filling him with a feeling that warmed him down to his toes.

Harry grinned at the feeling, as well as the idea of an invisible friend he could take anywhere with him.

 _ **I'll always be with you Harry**_

Harry blinked.

"Nemo?" He asked aloud, looking up as if to try and see inside his own head.

 _ **Of course, you didn't think I'd just stay silent while I'm in here, did you?**_

He could almost hear the wry smirk in Nemo's voice. He beamed a smile of his own, truly happy for the first time in years. He was so happy he almost forgot why Nemo had to leave.

And then the door exploded.

* * *

Harry jumped in shock and turned to look as the door bucked against its hinges, the sound like the boom of a cannon. It jolted the Dursley's awake, and they looked around blearily, trying to find the source. Harry scrambled away from the door until his back found a wall, and pulled the blankets around him in an attempt to hide from whoever was coming that could have scared Nemo so much. Another boom at the door seemed to snap uncle Vernon fully awake, and he lunged to grab the package he'd brought that was leaning against the wall. He ripped away the brown paper and shouldered what turned out to be a rifle. Harry's eyes widened. Uncle Vernon wasn't just mad, he was _insane._ Silence fell as the banging stopped, and Dudley successfully clambered his way into his parents' bed, cowering with his head under a pillow. They all waited with bated breath, Vernon aiming the barrel at the door.

With a crack, the door exploded inwards, actually breaking in half, the part not held by hinges flying off to the side. In the doorway stood a figure, too big to be human. His wet hair was plastered to his head, and as he stepped into the room Harry noted that his face was blackened, so that all he could see were the whites of his eyes. Those eyes darted around the room, quickly noting all the people within the small space. Vernon gave a wordless bellow and swung the rifle up to take aim. The giant man turned just as Vernon squeezed the trigger, and _moved._ He dodged to the right, moving so fast Harry could hardly believe it. The bullet still hit him, now clipping his shoulder instead of an almost certainly fatal blow to the chest. The man barely reacted, a small grunt as he ducked behind the protruding stone of the fireplace.

All was silent for a moment, and Harry held his breath. He watched as a pink umbrella poked around the corner and, before he could even laugh at the sight, three ropes launched from the tip at the Dursleys with deadly accuracy. The huge man charged from his shelter, straight towards Harry. He scooped him up with one arm, and threw him over his shoulder, his free hand still brandishing the pink umbrella like a weapon. Even with Harry on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he moved quickly around the edges of the small hut, checking out the windows and underneath the furniture.

As he searched, he muttered constantly under his breath, so quiet that Harry could barely hear him. He did make out a few lines, like "Mighty pow'rful magic, could feel it all the way from outside," and "Could've even been dark stuff, I'll need to let th' professor know." Harry had no idea what any of it meant, and just hoped the madman would let them go unharmed.

Finally, the man plopped him down on the couch. The giant regarded him for a moment, then pointed his umbrella at the fireplace, shooting a spark that burst into a huge fire from nothing but the damp crisp packets that sat inside. In the light of the now roaring fire, Harry could better see the man's face, and watched as he gently prodded at where the bullet had clipped him, a wounded expression on his face.

"Blimey, what are ye thinkin'? Shootin' at a man tha's just been struck by lightning."

* * *

Harry awoke the next day, bleary eyed and half believing the strange dream he'd had. He felt for his glasses and put them on, only to watch as his blurry bed sharpened into a large, lumpy black coat.

Harry grinned. He hadn't been dreaming at all, and that meant-

 **Good morning Nemo!**

He felt something stir within the recesses of his mind before the unmistakeable voice of Nemo replied.

 _ **Good morning, Harry. I trust you slept well?**_

Harry's grin stretched wider, threatening to hurt his cheeks. He sat back, mentally going over all that had happened last night.

After Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys had introduced himself and explained his sooty appearance ('Bit o' bad luck that, got hit by lightning right as I reached this rock!'), things had settled down a bit. Harry had had to assure him multiple times that yes, Harry was alright and no, Harry hadn't seen anyone else around and no, the Dursley's were just stupid, not inherently dangerous. But once he did, the large man's demeanour changed, his alert and stony expression melting into relief and eventually good humour that Harry warmed to instantly. Nemo, on the other hand, wasn't so sure. He reminded Harry of the way this man had been, downright scary, with no trace of joviality.

The white-haired boy had proven his words true about not keeping silent. He'd quickly struck up a commentary on the events unfolding before him, and Harry was quickly learning that he was quite sarcastic. Harry had to admit that though he enjoyed Nemo's razor sharp wit, it hadn't been incredibly helpful. More than a few times Harry found himself having to bite his lip when Nemo made a particularly acerbic comment on his family's reaction, the worst being when he remarked that perhaps Vernon was magic if all the colours he could turn were any indication. And hadn't that been a shock?

Learning about the existence of magic, and then finding out that _he_ was a wizard, of all people, had been unbelievable to say the least. Hagrid had been rather surprised when Harry said he couldn't think of any times he may have used this 'accidental magic'. He could think of all the times it would've been useful though, like when Aunt Petunia cut his hair for him, or when Dudley and his gang found him behind the school one time and given him the thrashing of his life. He had started to doubt that he really was a wizard, at least until Nemo piped up and mentioned that maybe, just _maybe_ , having a person living inside your head would be explained by magic.

He was brought out of this reverie by an insistent tapping at the window. Going to it, he undid the latch to let a large owl swoop in and drop a newspaper on the table. It didn't leave, and even started to get agitated, until Hagrid grumbled about paying it without even opening his eyes. Harry brought the coins back to the sill, trying to entice the bird out. As he deposited the money into its pouch, he noticed another piece of post, a letter, balanced rather precariously outside. He quickly grabbed the letter while the owl left, turning it over to read it.

Mr N Potter

By Mr H Potter's side

Hut-on-the-Rock

The Sea

Harry's eyes widened.

 **Nemo, this letter's for you**

He could feel a warm amusement within his mind.

 _ **I can see that Harry, remember? I see through your eyes.**_ Harry ducked his head as his cheeks flushed. But if Nemo was getting a letter from Hogwarts, then surely…

 **Nemo, you're a wizard as well! Oh this is amazing, I was afraid you wouldn't be able to come with me** _ **.**_ Even as he said it, he knew that it would never happen. After all, Nemo had said he would always be with him, and Harry was sure he hadn't been lying. He felt Nemo's approval ring throughout his head, and grinned.

Hagrid let out a large yawn from the broken sofa, causing Harry to start and quickly stuff the letter into his pocket with his own one.

He turned towards the now waking Hagrid, trying to look inconspicuous. The half-giant didn't seem to notice, instead rubbing at his eyes and rising from the broken sofa. He shook his head a little before smiling brightly at Harry.

"G'morning Harry, sleep well?" Harry nodded in response, still not completely comfortable around the man. Though Nemo had assured him that he'd only disappeared because he wanted to stay his and Harry's secret for now, Harry couldn't help but think that if it weren't for this man, he could've spent more time with Nemo.

"Well, how about I cook a few more sausages, and then we can be on our way. We've got quite a bit t' do today."

At Nemo's urging, Harry worked up the courage to speak up.

"Uh, Hagrid. Where are we going exactly?"

Hagrid winked. "Yer in for a treat. We're heading to Diagon Alley."


End file.
